And there were reasons of another kind, Jean well knew, why she should look with little friendliness on any one in the house of Saughleas—reasons that must prevent all renewal of the intimacy that had been so warm and pleasant during her mother’s lifetime. Still she had almost always been friendly in manner with Jean when they had chanced to meet, but Jean had been but seldom in her house since she had come from school, and she was glad of the excuse which her proposed invitation to Marion gave her to go there. For it had come into her mind that she might speak to Mrs Calderwood about the trouble which she found it not easy to bear alone.
Chapter Ten.
Mrs Calderwood.
Mrs Calderwood’s house faced the sea a little nearer the pier head than Miss Jean’s, and Miss Dawson nodded and smiled to her aunt in the window as she passed, hardly confessing to herself that she felt a little anxious as to how she might be received.
“But she’ll not be likely to put on her stiff, silent manner in her own house,” said she, encouraging herself.
Mrs Calderwood was not alone. Mrs Cairnie was with her, asking advice and sympathy for “a beeled thoom,” and Mrs Calderwood was in the act of applying a warm poultice to relieve the pain. In the poor old woman’s eagerness to tell her troubles to a new listener, the awkwardness of the first moment was got over. Nor was Mrs Cairnie in any hurry to leave when the interesting subject was exhausted.
“So ye didna gang up to Lunnon with your father, Miss Dawson? Ye’re wise to bide and let the great folk come to seek you. It’s a thankless job whiles gaen after them.”
This of course required no reply.